on."

Very cautiously they edged past the crazy door, their hands stretched
warily ahead. There was a sudden scurrying sound from the darkness and
they jumped back and held their breaths.

"P-probably a rat," whispered Amy.

"Or a squirrel," said Clint. They listened. All was silent again. A damp
and musty odour pervaded the place. Under their feet the floor boards
had rotted and as they made a cautious circuit of the interior they trod
as often on soil as on wood. The hut was apparently empty of everything
save a section of rusted stovepipe, dangling from a hole in the roof,
some damp rags and paper in a corner and a broken box. Clint discovered
the box by falling over it with a noise that sent Amy a foot off the
ground. When all was said the advantages presented by the hut were few.
It did protect them from the little chill breeze that stirred and it put
a roof over their heads, although, as Clint said, if it rained before
morning they'd probably find the roof of little account. On the other
hand, it was damper than the outdoors and the mustiness was far from
fragrant. They decided, however, to take up their quarters there until
morning. Looking for the road was evidently quite useless, and, anyway,
they were much too tired to tramp any longer. They found a place away
from door and window where some of the floor-boards still survived and
sank down with their backs to the wall. Amy heaved a great sigh
of relief.

"Gee," he muttered, "this is fine!"

"Pull the blanket up," murmured Clint with a pathetic effort at humour.
Amy chuckled weakly.

"I can't reach it," he said. "Guess it's on the floor. Anyway, the night
air is very beneficial."

"Could you eat anything if you had it, Amy?"

"Shut up, for the love of Mike! I could eat a kitchen range. Clint, did
I cast any aspersions awhile ago on cold lamb?"

"Uh-huh," said the other faintly.

"I was afraid so. I wish I hadn't now. A great, big platter of cold lamb
would--would--Oh, say, I could love it to death! Gee, but I'm tired! And
sleepy, too. Aren't you?"

Clint's response was a long, contented snore. Amy grunted. "I see you're
not," he murmured. "Well--" He pushed himself a little closer to Clint
for warmth and closed his eyes.

Many times they stirred and muttered and reached for bedclothes that
were not there, but I doubt if either of them once really fully awoke
until a sudden glare of light illumined the hut and flashed on their
closed eyelids.